


The human protector

by lovestowrite238



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott, Alpha Scott McCall, BAMF Stiles, BFFs, Comfort/Angst, Dark Stiles, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Family Feels, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt Scott, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Male-Female Friendship, POV Stiles, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott is a Good Friend, Sick Stiles Stilinski, wounded stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 00:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6730030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovestowrite238/pseuds/lovestowrite238
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles just wants to have one night of peace and quiet in Beacon Hills and spend it watching the stars in the woods with Scott, talking about anything but the supernatural. But even that, doesn’t seem possible in a town that attracts creatures of the night. <br/>And this particular creature came for Stiles.</p><p>Leaving a trail of disaster as their new foe attacks the two friends, Stiles finds himself alone in the woods, fighting for both their lives. The results of that fight, turn out worse than everyone thought at first.<br/>With Scott in an unexplained coma and badly hurt, Stiles realizes he's the one who has to fight the monster that attacked them.</p><p>Stiles’ POV. Expect lots Stiles-whump and emotional hurt, lots of Scott-whump, angst, friendship and family-feels.</p><p>In this story, Malia, Lydia and Stiles are friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Run, Stiles, Run!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this story for quite some time. In fact, the first rough version was written back in January. And then other projects came in the way and I wound up posting other stories.
> 
> So anyhow, I hope you'll like this story. It's something different for me, with a different approach and storyline. Am very curious what you're going to think about it. ;)
> 
> I will post often, probably a new chapter every 2 or 3 days.

**Chapter One: Run, Stiles, Run!**

 

One second ago, Scott was running next to me, wolfed out. His claws stuck out and he grunted, his eyes a fiery red. He was the Alpha and I was the human and we both ran for our lives. Then he was before me, going faster as he forget for one second I had trouble catching up.

I never told him, but I didn’t like seeing him in his wolflike shape.The only times he does, there’s a certain need and urge to it and it reminds me about who he is and what has happened to us ever since this started.

It makes me sad and afraid, because it means that we’re at war. With someone or something chasing us and trying to harm us. Or us trying to protect our town. Both options aren’t my favorite ones, but we’ve become so used to it, I hardly even think about it anymore.

We just go.

I’m having trouble following him, because he’s so fast. Yet he keeps his pace slower than usual, because he knows he can’t abandon me in this hour of need. He remembers that I’m the human and that I chose to stay one. I refused the bite and I will keep on doing that until my dying day.

I moan as we run side by side, clutching my side as I start to slow my pace. Even though I’m a fast runner, this pace he keeps is too much for me. I don’t even have the option to catch my breath, so fast we go that I can’t speak at all.

Then he slows down suddenly, remember that he has me to take care of. Scott’s very loyal to and doesn’t abandon me, even though without me he would be able to avoid being caught by this thing that’s after us.

Instead, he grabs my arm and pulls me gently but firmly with him, increasing the pace once more as he goes faster and takes me along this fast pace. I pick up my speed once more, encouraged by the way he’s protecting me.

The fact there’s something behind us, of course makes it pretty clear I have no choice in the matter either. We just run, because it’s all we can do. It’s that, or fight this creature. And he won’t do that when I’m around.

Scott’s an excellent fighter, that I know for sure. I’ve seen it many times before, watched it from a safe distance. But I don’t like to see him fight, because it doesn’t fit his gentle nature. Scott detests anything that reeks of terror or evil, and cherishes the good that lives in Beacon Hills. He didn’t become a werewolf by choice. He was pulled into this and sometimes he regrets it.

My best friend won’t destroy any life or deliberately endanger any of his own kind, even if it’s another Alpha whose intentions aren’t as noble as his. He won’t wolf out, until he knows for certain that the enemy is near either.

His senses are sharp and skillful, stronger probably than most wolf’s are. It’s his True Alpha nature that makes him like this. He can tell in a moment’s breath who he is facing. And he tries to escape it, even when he knows he can easily win. He takes no chances with those he loves.

I’m proud to be his friend. His _human_ friend.

Me on the other hand, has nothing to defend me with, except a baseball bat that doesn’t actually help that much when push comes to shove. I used to have a wooden one, stolen from Melissa and then instantly destroyed on top of the head of a gigantic twin-shaped creature.

So I exchanged it later one for a metal one I bought online. This one doesn’t get destroyed easily but I don’t walk around with it all that much. That metal object has been my friend for ages now, and tonight I left it in the jeep because I had no idea we were heading towards trouble. I was off guard and thought it would be a peaceful night.

I’m not a skilled hunter, nor a good fighter. I’m just a regular teenager, who can run fast but not so fast that it will save his life. The only thing I have, are my common sense and cynical remarks, hidden behind the sarcasm that identifies me.

And that will not work with us today.

In fact, right at this moment, I had this strange, odd feeling that this thing – whatever it is – has it out for me. I can hear its snarling sound, can almost feel it groan as it reaches for me.

We’re losing this marathon that we’re running.

In fact, we might even be losing our lives.

 


	2. All things evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> summary in chapter 1!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for liking this story and commenting on it.   
> On with chapter 2!

 

**Chapter Two: All things evil**

The world is changing around us. Ever since we sacrificed ourselves to the Nemeton, we have invited in all things evil. It’s our fault that creatures invade the wounds around us, took over the preserve and have been slaughtering the good old citizens of Beacon Hills. We might have saved our parents, but we managed to get many others killed off.

If I were to turn back time, would I have done the same? I don’t know. I think I would, to save our parents. But if I had known then what we unleashed, I question it.

I know that Scott doesn’t reason that way, but I do. I have always done so, ever since the nogitsune entered my mind and invaded my scalp. Even now, evil is entering the forests, growing by the day. It is like a blanket that lingers over us and can’t be removed in times of excruciating nightmares. Perhaps one day, when death comes to claim us all, we’ll have learned not to mes with the supernatural.

Deaton told us late last night that Beacon Hills is slowly succumbing to evil. The signs are everywhere. Something lurks in the shadows and threatens to destroy us all. I too have felt it when I drove home two nights ago. I couldn’t even tell what it was that scared me so much, but there it was. Lurking in the dark. Waiting. For something, someone.

For someone of us.

Scott, my friend for as long as I can remember, doesn’t know I feel this way. He doesn’t realize that I have so many fears built up I often fear myself. I’m in a dark place more often than not and it’s scary at times.

No matter how much I desire to release the inner pain from my past experiences, I can’t. But I know that I can still share a very small partof that burning burden with my friends. I know they have some knowledge of the darkness, but don’t know the details.

When I need the light, I go to them. I feel loved when I’m with my dad, my friends or Melissa and that’s enough for me. They are the ones that keep me whole.

And then there’s Scott.

Scott has been my friend for most of my adulthood. We think alike and understand each other without sharing a single word between us. In the past, we spent our time getting drunk – or at least try to do so – hang out together, talk about girls and whatever normal teenagers do. That’s what I miss sometimes and I’ve been trying to get it back. Once we were two normal kids, leaning on each other’s support.

After the bite, all of that changed. We don’t really go out into the woods that much anymore. That, we did in the past, right after we discovered he had been cursed. After the nemeton sacrifice, evil somehow came to find us.

What we did do, is drive around in the jeep, taking in the world around us, absorbing whatever we felt could be a sign that something out there lurked. We want to defend this town of ours in whatever way we can, but I’m not so sure that the way we’re doing it, is good enough. Sometimes I think we do only find the bodies, as someone once told me. That we come out of lurkdom when it’s already too late.

I’ve been trying to fix that, by roaming about on my own too, whenever Scott doesn’t even realize I’m doing so. He doesn’t always has to have my back, and he doesn’t need to be there all the time either. I can take care of myself. Even if it means that danger might find me too.

Perhaps it did somehow.

Tonight had been different. We had discussed this last night, both eager to go back to old ways again. We hadn’t planned on setting out to find any dangerous creatures, wolves, hunters or whatever. We just wanted to have a good time, like in the good old days. Kira was out of town, Malia was with her dad, Lydia was at her mom’s and Derek was in town. We had no plans to get into trouble.

But we found it anyway.

We sat in the preserve, sharing a bottle. Well, that is to say, I drink one sip and he drank the rest of it, because he couldn’t get drunk. It’s still beyond me how he can drink so much and not feel a thing. I’m so jealous of that little trade of us, I can’t lie about that. But that’s besides the point of what I’m trying to tell you.

Suddenly, he looked up, sticking his nose up in the air and sniffing it, as if he was trying to find a prey. He dropped down the nearly empty bottle and looked up startled. Then he stared at me with a troubled look that meant we were probably in deep shit.

“What is it?” I asked troubled.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

Yeah right.

His eyes scanned the ground, finding tracks I had never seen before. They were completely new, not like any animal we knew roamed these parts. These were not wolf’s claws, nor mountain lions or any other regular animal. This was different.

And I was terribly afraid all of a sudden. A fear I couldn’t even start to describe, overwhelmed me.

“Come on,” Scott said, knowing of course I was immediately behind him, and he moved before I could stop him. Our enemy made strange sounds, scattering the silence. The sound of tree branches, the scattering of wood, the touching of anything that has a life. He is large. Too large to be a wolf, or an animal. 

“It’s probably a wolf,” Scott whispered, but his voice was hesitant. These were no wolf tracks, yet I couldn’t say what they were. “You should go back. It isn’t safe.”

“So should you then,” I whispered, not leaving his side.

But he kept on moving, because he chose to be involved. And I kept on moving, because I chose to stay with him. The enemy lead us deeper into the forest, into the shadows that would soon trap us.

He looked up, his eyes afraid as he wolfed out when he saw what I discovered too.

“Stiles, RUN!”

And so we ran.


	3. Survival Instincts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for the many nice comments and following!

**Chapter Three: Survival Instincts**

My survival instincts spring in action after Scott’s cry, but it’s already too late.

All I remember about it later on, is that somehow the shadows around us didn’t feel right. They were strange, like beacons of danger warning us to get out right now. That all that we knew, had been changed. The darkness invaded us with the speed of light, catching us so fast we both felt it.

Protectively Scott tried to get me to run harder even, but I ran as fast as I could already, not daring to look aside at the shadows becoming black blankets.

Whatever it was, it or several of them, they were threatening us. It was pure evil, that’s the only way to describe it. Pure darkness that would not let go of us, even if it killed us.

Something was out there, waiting for us when we entered the woods, thinking we could take it easy. I had not wanted to see it. I ignored the signals and maybe Scott did too. I was too busy pretending to be normal for once. But we aren’t normal. And we were stupid to go here.

Something touches my back, scratches me through the fabric of my T-shirt. I shout.

I see flashes of golden eyes, so large and so dangerous that they can’t possibly belong to a wolf or a wendigo or a kanima. This is a new breed, something without a name.

A second later, we’re on the ground. I don’t even know how it happened. I could feel something push me hard in my back, throwing me off my feet, forward onto the ground. I am pushed by this force, thrown down hard. A hush sound follows and I’m down, while Scott is still running, as he doesn’t even realize that first I’m in danger.

The next second I’m up again, running for my life for the second time. This thing is on me again, clawing for my legs. I scream when it damages my skin.

Scott leaps into it, dropping the darkness and myself to the hard ground and then throws himself on top of me, to protect me from this. I see it tumble away from his, towards the bushes.

Scott rolls off of me, grabs me tight and yells at me to run again. And I’m up again, staring at the shadows that threaten to kill us all before I sprint for the third time.

Something comes at me again, not Scott. That, we both realize at the same time. The unknown beast is after me now, feeling instinctively I’m the weakest one, I suppose. If he gets to me first, he’ll also hurt Scott in the process, weaken him.

It growls, freezing me to a standstill. I try to run, but can’t. I’m glued to the ground, stopped by fear itself.

When the creature grabs me and throws me down hard, I can feel the side of my head strike the ground roughly. The tree roots are sticking out and get me too for good manner. I can feel the skin on the right side of my face burst as I touch the ground hard.

I’m completely dazed by the sudden flashes of pain that surge through me, numbing me. I hear growls, shouts, animalistic sounds, and a lot of anger in it all. I catch a glimpse of Scott and this thing fighting, claws sticking out towards each other.

Then Scott falls on top of me, knocked down by the beast, and I feel the wind being knocked out of me too as his weight pins me down. I can’t even talk, which is a new for me. I just lie there panting, trying to free myself

Then my best friend rolls off of me and lies quietly on the ground next to me. I can see the enemy’s eyes close to me. The rest of him is a blur, as is the rest of the world. I hear raw breathing and smell its stinking breath.

I see its yellow eyes, and it reaches for me again. It pulls me up, its touch burning into my skin. I scream at him, try to free myself with all I have left in me. I fight, struggle and claw at it. It screeches then and releases me, and I feel my head impact the ground for a second time.

I have lost the lump of wood I was holding near me and don’t know where it is. Later I will find it by my side. I can’t move a single muscle. I’m paralyzed. The world becomes silent for a few moments. I have no idea how long exactly. Then I look up confused, not knowing anything, but the fear and darkness in my head.

An excruciating pain forces its way into my skull and sends pinpoints of a hard, aggressive ache through me. I’ve been hurt before, but this is strangely different. Numbing. Paralyzing even. Every move makes me nauseous. I can hardly do anything, but roll on my side, fighting against the rising of bile starting deep down my throat.

I close both eyes as the surface sways, and I order it to stop.

But I can’t.

I can’t stay awake.

So I close my eyes and drift off. And return just as quickly back to reality when reality nags at my brain.

Something is wrong. I can feel it. There is no Scott leaning over me, asking me if I am alright with a frantic, protective voice. He doesn’t pull me up like he usually does. We don’t cherish being alive. He’s not there to be concerned over my wellbeing.

There is nothing, but complete silence that surrounds us. And there is the strange sound of something tapping the ground, like drops of water trickling from a tree. The shadows around us have changed.

I realize we’re completely alone in this forest. No one is coming to help us. In fact, nothing much happens while we are both on the ground, each in our own world. I know that I will have to be the one finding help. Something’s terribly wrong with Scott and he’s not healing.

There couldn’t have been more than a few moments passing us by, yet it feels like an eternity. The sound of the dripping water annoys me. I look up and find that the trees are still wet with rain, and the ground underneath is still soaked with it, and that the water is splashing on a fallen leaf.

I roll on my side and groan his name.

“Scott? Scotty?”

At first I can hardly see him, as flashes of hurt cut through my eyes like razor blades. I am stung by the pain’s harshness. But when I open my eyes for the second time, I see what I always fear seeing. My friend is lying on the ground, partially on his side, and is staring at me with open, shocked eyes.

 My heart stops. I think he is dead. 

I take in the sight of him, my eyes rushing over his body. There is blood underneath him, dripping from a strange wound that ruined his clothes. He is wearing a sweater that has been clawed through. The redness of his blood mingles with the light grey he chose to wear this morning. I almost wished it were black so that the blood would not stand out that much.

But the jacket above his thin sweater and the jeans he only bought a week ago, seem ruined with his own crimson red. 

Blood is a thick fluid that can leave a permanent impression. The hospital smells of it. Blood represents death. Right now, it represents Scott’ death. It despairs me that I won’t be able to help him. I’m not a doctor, and even so, I wouldn’t be able to save him.

I forget that the shadows might still be claiming us, and that I should be on the lookout for the creature that did this. Nothing matters anymore, but the wolf lying on the forest floor.

The wolf who is going to die if I don’t get help.


	4. Can't breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's been very busy, sorry about the late next chapter!

**Chapter Four: Can’t breathe**

I’m up, swaying nauseated on my knees and I hover by Scott’s side. I lean partially over him, trying not to throw up leftover dinner and ghastly smelling fluids. It feels like I could just faint at any second, but I realize that I can’t afford that right now.

My friend’s life depends on my consciousness and ability to stay focused. I need to get him to Deaton or Melissa, the two people who can actually save him. I’m just a kid, what do I know about healing? 

I know by one look that I can’t carry Scott back to Beacon Hills on time. He’s too heavy for me to carry anyhow. We’ll never make it to the jeep. My phone! Where is my phone?

Frantically I search my pocket, only to find it empty. The phone must have fallen out when we ran, or when that thing attacked us. I cry hot, burning tears when I realize what that means. Oh god. I can’t get help, not like this.

I need to do something, to fix this. I try to think of all I can do. I need to make him feel human again, so he’ll start healing. Pain makes you human. But I won’t be able to break a bone because I don’t have that strength in me.

So I slap him in the face, over and over again. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t wake up. Whatever I say, do or try, it fails.

I look at his pale, distraught face and the eyes that no longer seem so careless and joyful as they had been a few moments ago, hidden as they are underneath the long eyelashes and the sorrow of an Alpha in need.

Is is wolfsbane? No, it can’t be. I crawl on hands and knees, searching for evidence of it with my eyes and hands. I can’t find anything that tells me what is causing this. I slap him again. Nothing.

I remember what Allison did one day. She sewed up his wounds. But I can’t do that either. I can only stop the bleeding. Yeah, that’s it. I have to stop that, so he’ll have some blood left inside of him by the time someone knows we’re missing.

I place my hands on the strange wound with blood oozing out of it that crosses his chest and close my eyes, queasy by the sight of what it looks like. I want to help Scott. Heal him somehow. Will him to wake up. I have to do _something_.

But I can’t … I cannot breath. I cannot move. I’m useless.

 I am just sitting there and I can’t do a goddamn thing. I don’t have the strength to save him. I can only sit and wait and murmur and pray. Whatever the hell spark once made me do the impossible, is long gone.

I turn away my head and fight against the bile rising from within me. But I fail to succeed. I move away from Scott’s body, crawling on hands and feet until I find a spot between the bushes where I lose the contents of my stomach.

I spit. I stretch my back, fighting against what pains me from the inside out. Then I crawl back to Scott and place my hands on his chest again, pushing so hard on his wounds I swear I can feel muscle and nerve underneath my hands.

Then his eyes open and he looks at me and I can’t tell if he is alive or dead. His eyes don’t move. Perhaps he sleeps. No, he’s not asleep. He’s …

Dead. Our lives as we have known them, are over.

He’s _dead._ He left me.

I sink on the ground as I reluctantly let go of his chest and hide my face between my bloodied hands, smelling it on me, on my face, my hair, my arms and hands. My mind wrestles with this knowledge, that I’ve lost him and failed to save him.

It’s over.


	5. Into the woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much again for your great and lovely comments!   
> On with the story ;)

**Chapter Five: Into the woods**

I want to go too. That’s all I can think of. I heave dry cries, tired and weary. My phone. I need to get to my phone. Where is it? I need to get help _now._

No, don’t bother. It’s too late. He’s gone. Dead. It’s over. _Over and done with._

Until Scott suddenly moves.

His eyes close, open, and then close once more. He is alive. My god, he has a wound  in his chest near his heart that is so big it had to kill him. And yet he is awake and partially alert, and so cold. Oh so cold.

“Scott. Scotty. Scotty!” I speak his name and know he can hear me.

“Hold on,” I groan, placing my hands back on his chest and forcing myself to concentrate on stopping the bleeding.

“Hold on, Scotty. Your time hasn’t come,” I mutter.

 _He needs you_ , pounds through my head.  _He needs you._  

I close my eyes and hope that someone hears my silent prayer. I can’t bring him to Beacon Hills like this. I can hardly walk myself.

Then I look up. I’m pack _. I. Am. Pack._ Someone can find me. Derek could. If I shout, scream, will him to come, he might. And then we’ll be okay. I hope that whatever bond I have with Derek, is enough for him to find us, and help us. Me, who jokes about wolfish connections and special bonds and packs, is now praying someone will find us and help us.

I crawl backwards, until I reach the side of the woods, kneel forward and vomit again. And then I look down and see it. The white cover of my phone, glistening between the trees. I reach for it, almost dropping it into the puddle of my own vomit.

“We have to move,” I hear myself say as I crawl back to Scott, who is lying still again. “Back to Beacon Hills. We have to find help.”

My fingers are trembling as I push the speed dial to reach my dad. After three rings, he picks up absentmindedly.

“Stiles, what is it? I’m in the middle of a meeting with my deputies. Can I call you back?”

“Dad,” I mutter. “Dad, I need help.”

Instantly his fatherly senses spring into action and I can almost see him before me, standing upright shocked as he grasps his phone tighter, pushing it hard against his ear.

“Stiles, what’s wrong? Stiles? Son, talk to me. Where are you?”

“The woods,” I mutter, and my voice sounds as if someone else is talking. “Scott’s hurt, dad. It’s really bad. You need to get over here. Send Parrish, call Deaton. Melissa. Derek. Dad – I need you.”

“What about you? Are you hurt too? Son, talk to me. STILES!”

His voice rings in my ear and I look up shocked, startled returning to the here and now as I realize I was fading in and out while I spoke to him.

“Dad, no – I’m – yes, I am. No, I’m – Dad, just come and find us.”

“Where, Stiles?”

“Southside. Near the Nemeton. Where you were buried. You know the way.”

That’s enough for him. The Nemeton only lets itself be found when it wants to, but he knows how to get to the open plan where it’s located. We’re not that far away from it, always drawn towards it since the darkness first came into our lives.

He’ll find us.

“Hang on, son. We’re on our way. Just stay on the phone. Stay with me, Stiles.”

Scott grunts and moves and I see the blood, trickling out of his body at an alarming pace. His eyes flutter open and shut immediately again, over and over.

“I have to go,” I whisper to myself, barely talking into the phone anymore. “Have to stop the bleeding.”

I hang up and press the second speeddial. Derek. I know he’s near, and I know he’ll know what to do about Scott.

“What is it?” he speaks into the phone, immediately alarmed because I’m the one calling him.

 Usually it’s Scott who handles the relations between us, so to speak, even though everything changed after we defeated the Nogitsune. Still, old habits die hard and we tend to argue and talk to one another in a way that lingers between friendship and weirdness.

“Scott’s hurt,” I mutter. “My dad is on the way. I need you.”

“Are you hurt too?”

I don’t give an answer. “You have to help him.”

“Where?”

“The preserve. Southside. Near the Nemeton.”

“I’m on my way, will be there in five.”

He hangs up before I can say another word and my heart nearly stops in pure, harsh relief that someone’s coming to help us. I lean into Scott, placing my head on his chest, moving with the harsh rhythm of death between us.


	6. Life's power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the many comments and kudos!   
> next chapter coming up ;)

**Chapter Six: Life’s power**

A second lasts a minute. A minute becomes an hour. Or it feels like that in my mind anyhow.

I know I have to find something to cover Scott’s wound with, but I can’t. All I have is my own clothes and my hands. I want to pull off my lacrosse sweater but don’t manage to do so.

My body doesn’t respond to anything my mind says. They’re separated from one another. I’m desperate, at the end of my wit. I know I can’t bring him back, not by myself. Scott is dying and I’m absolutely helpless.

“Pressure,” I say out loud. “Put even more pressure on the wound.”

Scott grunts and I panic. Someone hear my prayers. Lydia. Derek. Someone. Help us. Dad. Liam. Malia. _Anyone._

Scott coughs and then he stares at me. He looks me straight in the eyes. There is pain now in those eyes. The shock is wearing down and he recognizes me. I know it’s the end of him, I can feel it. His life is slipping away and I don’t know why he’s not healing. I’ve tried everything. My goddamn spark or whatever it was that Deaton called it, isn’t doing much good.

I can’t watch this. I can’t let him die in my arms, while I sit back helplessly and allow for it to happen. He grasps my hand and then he coughs again, and I keep on putting pressure on the wound because it is all I can do right now. He takes short, shallow breaths.

Why did I ignore my instincts? Why did we react so late? And why did I ignore the shadows’ warning that we were heading straight for disaster?

“Scott, you can’t do this to me,” I whisper as tears fall freely from my eyes. “You can’t die on me like this. Don’t leave me.”

I reach for his hand and squeeze it, because it’s all I can do.

And then the oddest thing happens. I see myself giving him some of my strength. Instead of him leeching pain out of me, I can feel my hands push strength into him. It might not be real and I might be imagining it all, but it does feel as if he draws courage of it.

I can feel my own strength drain from my body, straight into his. Is this what they do? Is this what wolves feel like when they help hurt humans?

And he opens his eyes and looks up at me, smiling suddenly. I can see it helped. He’s calmer, more relaxed, and I swear there’s a different smell to his blood. But that, I could have imagined too.

“Hey Stiles,” he croaks, before he shuts his eyes and falls into a deep slumber.

“Scott,” I say, letting go of his hand as I try to shake him. “Come on, man. Wake up.”

I push two fingers against his throat frantically while my consciousness is slowly slipping through my hands. He’s breathing steadily, his heart beating more clearly. He’s still bleeding like hell, but somehow, he seems to be calmer.

“Stiles. _Stiles!!_ ” I hear the shouts before I see them approach, pushing their frantic bodies through the woods. In the far away distance, flashes of blue shine through the trees, from waiting police cars. I can’t muster the strength to call out for them, but I know they will find us.

No longer necessary now. To my relief, someone helps them.

Derek is there, leading them towards the scent of hurt, blood and death. I’m absolutely right. He’s here with my dad, probably arriving at the exact same time. Parrish is with my dad, running towards us too.

Dad brought Deaton with him, the vet rushing with a box in his hands.

The four men stare at us in shock for a brief moment. I sink back against the back of a tree wearily, my hands still on his chest. I can’t move even if I wanted to, looking at the men dazed. I’m so tired.

“It was evil,” I hear myself say. “I don’t know what it was, but it was pure, harsh, destructive evil. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

My dad kneels by my side, holding me into his arms as he pries at my wrists, trying to get me to loosen my grip. I refuse to let go of Scott, even when Deaton takes over, sinking down at Scott’s side alongside Derek.

“Stiles, you can let go of him now,” my dad says gently. “We’ll help him now.”

“He is dying,” I say frantically. “Dead already, perhaps. You’re too late.”

“No, he’s still alive, and breathing,” Deaton speaks. “But you have to let go now, Stiles. I have to take a closer look at the wound.”

“I can’t,” I whisper in tears.

Derek takes my hands and holds them in his, gently lifting them off Scott’s chest. I look up at the wolf in shock and realize I can’t do anything else for Scott and I’m in their way. The former Alpha who has somehow become part of us all, smiles gently at me.

“You did okay out here, Stiles. It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

I let go at long last, willing a last bolt of life’s energy into Scott. I try to move up, only to realize my legs refuse. They’ve lost any will to respond.

My dad holds onto me tight, supporting me along with Parrish as they drag me away from Scott. I want to sleep this off and regain my strength. But I refuse to give in and tell my dad after a second or so that I’m fine. I want them to let go of me.

Stubbornly I try to pry myself loose from their grip, my eyes fixed on Scott while Derek stares at me shocked, very surprised I was able to keep Scott alive all this time.

“We have to take Stiles to the hospital,” my dad says to Parrish, who looks frantically at us. “And Scott too.”

“We can’t take him. They’ll know, sheriff,” Parish reminds my dad, who of course knows they can’t bring Scott to the hospital.

“Scott has to go with me,” Deaton says. “You know the hospital is not the right place for him. But Stiles must be checked out immediately.”

“No hospital,” I say. “Please, dad. I want to stay with Scott. I need to know.”

“Son, you’re hurt too.”

“No, I’m okay. I was knocked out briefly, that’s all,” I react. “If I still feel bad later on, you can take me. But please, dad – I have to be with him.”

He wavers and I know I’m winning the battle.

“Scott has to be taken to my clinic right now,” Deaton says troubled, as he examines Scott’s wound. “I don’t know what this is, I’ve never seen it before.”

“I know,” I mutter.

Then the vet gazes at me. “You tried to help him. You kept him alive.”

I nod.

“How?”

“I don’t remember,” I said wearily. “Just spoke to him, pushed on the wound, held his hands.”

“Both his hands?”

“Yeah. Why?”

He stares at me and then back to Scott, not able to understand. “Did you give him your life’s power?”

I hesitate. “What does that mean?”

“Did you will yourself to push some of your strength into him?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “I said lots of things.”

He knows I’m lying but doesn’t say anything as he takes care of Scott again.

I can’t see my friend’s face anymore. I stare at the crumpled heap lying there and hear Deaton ask Derek to lift Scott and carry him gently to the waiting cars.

I am still being held by one arm by my dad, preventing me from toppling over. I have to fight the urge to sink into darkness myself. I can’t do that. Somehow, it feels to me as if Scott lives and breathes on my strength. I have given some to him, but I have plenty left.

We move to the vehicles. I am being taken there by my dad and Parrish, while Deaton and Derek carry Scott gently but steadily through the woods. We hear nothing but the sounds of darkness. Inside dad’s car, I sink back and allow them to take Scott in the other vehicle, under the promise they’ll take us both to Deaton’s.

So they do, despite dad’s warnings that I need medical help.

Of course I don’t listen. I thrive on an endless battery of energy, adrenaline and anxiety.


	7. The Clinic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your lovely comments and kudos!

**Chapter Seven: The Clinic**

My dad calls Lydia, who warns Malia and Liam too.

As we arrive at the clinic, Lydia’s already there. She picked up Malia and Liam who are as frantic as she is. Malia texted Kira, who promised to come as soon as she could.

We get out and I gaze immediately at the other vehicle that has Scott in it. Malia takes me into her arms, touching my face, after which Lydia embraces me too. Both girls are very worried, but I can hardly see them, as they swim in and out of my vision.

The world’s pretty blurry, but I don’t tell them that.

“What happened?” the bansheet asks troubled, her voice soft but demanding. I’m not capable to form an answer that can describe what happened to us.

Despair sets in again when I realize Scott hasn’t woken up yet. If only this could have been a nightmare. If only I could wake up and realize it is not true. Lydia pulls me out of my stupor, shaking me softly.

“Stiles? Are you with us?”

I just shake my head and look away. Lydia knows me best. She’ll know I’m lying about how crappy I truly feel. I don’t want them to send me away. As long as I’m here, Scott’s holding on.

Another car arrives, this time with Melissa behind the steering wheel. My dad called her from the car, explaining to her what’s happening to Scott. She was in surgery before and took off as quickly as she could after.

The sharp lights of Deaton’s clinic burn my eyes. I look away, hiding my ache for darkness as much as I can.

“Scott,” Melissa says, leaning over her son who is gently placed on the examination table, to reveal the extent of the wound. “Oh god, what’s happening to him?”

“I don’t know yet,” Deaton says, gently cutting up his shirt or what is left of it.

I sink down on a chair and just wait, as the others hover over Scott. Malia and Lydia never leave my side, knowing something’s going on with me. My dad strolls the room, talking to Parrish frantically as they try to figure out what to do next about the danger in the woods.

Melissa turns to me worried, while her hands are on her son’s chest as she notices my probably very pale face. “Stiles, are you okay?”

I nod tiredly.

“The stubborn mule is hurt too,” Derek says.

 “He needs to be taken care of,” Melissa says, staring at my dad demandingly. “Don’t let him fall asleep until I’ve checked him out. Looks like a concussion. Can you put him in a dark room, Alan? He needs to rest until I see him. The light aches his eyes.”

I look up from my seat and say, “No. I am not going anywhere without knowing how Scott is. I’m fine, Melissa.”

Melissa turns to me, a smudge of her son’s blood on her face.

“Stiles, you saved his life. Now you owe it to yourself to get some rest. Scott’s not dead and he’s not going to die. We won’t let him, okay? He’s been through worse than this.”

“Has he?” I ask quietly.

The group stares at me and I just shrug, unable to explain how it felt to be touched by evil. They weren’t there, they didn’t feel it. It’s the dark that holds him in its grip.

“I’ll find out who did this, I swear,” I muttered.

Derek stares at me in shock, surprised I would express my feelings like this.

Melissa and my dad know they won’t stand a chance arguing with me. I’m probably the most stubborn person they know and I always get what I want.

“I’ll check him out soon,” Melissa promises my dad, before she returns her attention to her son.

I wait with shaking legs while my dad hovers by my side and the others stand quietly in the room, waiting for Deaton and Melissa to finish their checkup of Scott.

Everyone is quiet, the room filled with tension. My head feels like it will explode. I’ve never felt this way before. Our friend is still alive on my strength, even though the physical connection is lost now. I can feel him pulling the tethers that hold our very lives. He needs me as he lies quietly on that table.  

Finally I stand up and stroll the room. I pace at a steady rhythm. My friends and dad stare at me as I do so. They care for me, I know. I am grateful for their presence, but none will resolve this aching of my heart. I have never seen Scott this close to death, never so fragile and damaged.

And worst of all: I know that he went down saving me. He threw himself on top of me, to protect my frail human form against the enemy. It was me that thing wanted, for whatever reason. I don’t know why, or what its connection with me was. But it definitely came after me.

Rage overwhelms me, makes me so angry I ball my fists and have to stop myself from banging with force through a wall. What attacked us? What did it want?

I want to go back in the forests, do a beast-hunt and kill it bare handedly, going against Scott’s rules. I don’t care if I have to slaughter it. This thing isn’t human, it isn’t mortal, it’s … I don’t know what it is.

I have to explain to Derek what I saw, what it was. How could we not have heard it until it was too late, when it was more deadly than anything?

How could we not have seen that it had its eyes set upon us, and that we had become hunted in a few seconds? How could we have been so careless to head out there thinking we were going to be okay?

“Stiles.”

I turn and find Lydia behind me. She places both hands on my upper arms. “Sit and let someone take care of you for once. You’re bleeding.”

“No.”

I shrug her off for the first time in my life. She looks at me unmoved, not even startled. She knows me so well, and my eyes soften when I realize she’s only trying to help me.

“I’m sorry, Lydia,” I whisper softly. “It’s nothing personal. I didn’t mean to brush you off.”

“You’re not. But you still need to lie down and rest. You’re running a fever, Stiles.”

“Am I?” I look up startled.

“Yeah,” she says. “You are.”

She places her hands on both sides of my face and our eyes are close. I want to lean into her and tell her I need her strength to keep both of us up now, but I don’t. I’m not about to have a panic attack. I’m stronger than she thinks. I’m furious. It’s the anger that keeps me up.

Malia doesn’t say a single word, but I know she knows how I feel. She feels it too somehow. She’s extremely strong, lives on her emotions and gut feelings and knows what goes through my mind at this very moment. She feels the sort of revenge she’s been thriving on for quite some time.

I lean into Lydia for a brief moment. Even that movement hurts and I feel as if my body will never heal from this experience again. Our closeness is not saving me this time. I wince and she lets go of me. Her eyes examine my face, but I look away and refuse to betray the physical hurt that has taken over. I gaze at my dad, who frowns and tries to say something, and then stops himself because he knows there’s no point arguing.

The wait continues. Watching. Hurting. Ignoring their gazes.

I wish I could feel Scott’s life thrive back into him, could see his healing kick in, but it doesn’t. I can feel life being ripped from him. And suddenly, as my fists clench and my heart hurts, the bond between us is severed.

I stagger backwards and my hand clutches my chest.

“Stiles, what is it?” Lydia asks, grasping me, as Melissa turns towards me too. My dad seems so scared I feel ashamed for a second.

“I’m okay,” I say out of breath. “I’m fine.”

Deaton turns to us all, moving the attention away from me. I see the seriousness in his face when he discusses and explains Scott’s condition to us.

“He’s still alive, but he needs to rest and heal now. I’ve done all I can.”

“Is he going to die?” I ask sharply. “Don’t lie.”

“I don’t know,” Deaton truthfully says. “I can’t say for how long, that is the honest truth. We have to wait now. I am afraid I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve never seen anything like this. The wound, it’s new to me. It is a new evil I can’t identify yet.”

Melissa gasps for air, tears flowing freely from her eyes. All of them are shocked too. 

I look into Deaton’s eyes and know he speaks the truth. Scott may be the first victim of something new invading our town. And I know I was the intended target somehow. The creature came after me first, touching me. And then it was gone. It –

My thoughts stop as I stare at them all. I can’t think anymore. My chest hurts so much. I gasp for air, clutch my hand against my chest around the area of my heart and just … fall.

“Stiles!”

I look at my dad, the very second before my knees give out. I see into his eyes, and then there is nothing. His image becomes a blur. I feel strong hands grasp me before I hit the ground – Derek’s. He lowers me to the ground.

My dad shouts my name.

I wish I could do anything to stop this. But I can’t. 

“Call an ambulance,” I hear Melissa say, and she touches my face gently. “We are here, Stiles. Listen to my voice. Don’t let yourself go. Try to stay awake. Listen to me, okay?” 

It is the last thing I remember of that day.  



	8. Darkness falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments! Very much appreciated, I am truly in awe.

**Chapter Eight: Darkness falls**

Night has already fallen when I wake up. Instantly I know I’m not where I used to be. This isn’t Deaton’s clinic anymore. I’m in another hospital, this one meant for regular human beings. Crap.

My head’s wrapped, my chest aches. No, correction. My entire body aches and the side of my skull hurts like hell. I try to grasp what went on when I was out, but know that they probably took me here and took care of me, after they figured out what I had done to myself.

I remember giving away my strength. I remember being wounded. A heartache stretches out from within me, overwhelming me when I realize Scott’s not here. I have no idea where he is, or if he’s still alive. The connection is completely gone.

The room is white. An IV is pushed into my arm, a monitor rates my heartbeat. Someone moves quietly inside the room. It’s Lydia. She moves up when she sees I’m awake, grabs my hand and looks very troubled.

Then she does something she’s never done before. She moves my hand to her mouth and kisses the knuckles of my fingers. Startled and shocked by her gesture, I stare at her. It must have been pretty bad for her to do something like that. She pushes the button above my bed.

“How is he?” I ask with excruciating dry throat. She pours me some water and helps me to drink it. 

“Not okay yet. And you lied to Deaton.”

“About what?”

“When he asked you if you gave your strength away to Scott. You did.”

“No, I didn’t. I just sat by him.”

“And you willed yourself to help him. That’s why he was still alive when they found you and why you collapsed. If you had told him the truth immediately, you wouldn’t have passed out for two days.”

“Two days?” I try to get up startled.

“Yeah, Stiles. Two days. You’ve been pretty bad. You’ve been in the ICU all this time. Your heartbeat has been off since they brought you in. You did something to yourself, Stiles, and you don’t even know it.”

“I did know,” I confess, startling her. “I don’t know what it was, but I felt it too.”

“And you didn’t care, did you?” she speaks, her voice almost harsh. “You didn’t bother to tell us your life was on the line. Do you remember what happened after you collapsed?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Deaton and Melissa had to perform CPR on you because you went into cardiac arrest and stopped breathing for good measure too. They worked to keep you alive until the ambulance came. By then, your heart was up and running again, but it was a rough ride. You were so far gone that we thought we would lose you.”

“Come on, Lydia,” I mutter. “You’re overreacting. I just passed out.”

“No, you didn’t, Stiles. You woke up several times, speaking all sorts of nonsense. It was bad. Your dad was all over the place. He was so upset with you, like I’ve never seen before. He was angry because you didn’t tell us the whole truth.”

Ashamed I lean deeper into the thick pillows behind me, realizing I feel better.

“I want to see Scott. Can I get out of here? Is he still at Deaton’s?”

“No, Stiles. You can’t.”

The door opens, revealing my dad, standing in the doorway with a frown that varies between love and anger. I know I upset him and he’s right to be so upset.

“You can’t move, Stiles,” Lydia speaks soothingly. “Or at least, not right now. You should stay calm. Your head took a pretty serious blow. Melissa is as worried about you as she is about Scott. Help yourself now, you’re not helping him like this either.”

“I want to find out what did this.” 

“You can’t. We’re already looking for it,” my dad says, taking the lead. “Stiles, I don’t know why you care so little about yourself, but know that you were on the verge of death and have cost me ten years of my life. So stop fitching about and use the time to rest. You need it.”

Frantically I grab his hand tight as I sit up. “You don’t understand. It is after me, dad. I know it. It will take you too if you’re not careful. Whatever it is, you have to destroy it before it can take other lives.”

I feel anger surge through me like never before. It is an anger that I can’t even begin to explain. I was never a quiet, calm person, but right now, I feel as if a thousand bols of electricity run through me, urging me to get a move on, to stop this thing.

“It was my fault,” I say, avoiding Lydia’s and dad’s scared looks. “I told Scott I wanted to have a nice evening out. You know, just talk about the good old days, pretending we were normal. We didn’t pay attention until it was too late. When it came after me, Scott fought it protect me. I owe it to him to find this thing and end it.”

“Do you owe it to him to die then?” Lydia asks quietly. “Because that’s what will happen, Stiles, if you get out of this bed right now.”

I look up. “I won’t die.”

“You will in this state of mind,” my dad says. “You don’t have the strength or ability to find that creature like this, Stiles. You’ll only wind up getting yourself killed. You can’t do that to yourself, or to me. Or to Lydia and Scott and all of your friends.”

“That’s why I have to stop this thing,” I say bitterly. “Before it takes another person I care about when it comes after me.”

“Then we have to protect you, instead of allowing you to go out there on your own,” dad whispers. “Stiles, don’t you get it? If you’re right and this creature or whatever the hell it is, comes back for you, you’re in mortal danger.”

“I don’t care,” I cry out fiercely.

“Then what about Scott?” Lydia asks. “How is he going to feel when you’re out there, taking revenge? He doesn’t want that and you know it.”

“He would understand why I need to do this,” I say, unpersuaded.

“Would he?” Lydia asks sadly. “Scott would stay by your side whatever else happens. If it came to you and that thing, he would stick by your side.”

“If I had died, he would do the same,” I say. “He would track down my killer too.” 

“Scott is not dead. He will heal,” my dad reminds me. “He’s holding on, with Deaton and his mother.”

I shake my head. “No. I know he will die. I can’t feel him anymore.”

Lydia seems saddened by my words. . She stays with me, and kneels by my side, touching my face and caressing me gently. I am shocked she would show her fears so openly. I see it in her eyes.

“You have to rest,” she whispers soothingly. “And heal.”

A nurse and doctor come in to check me out.

“Very agitated,” I hear Lydia say. “He needs to rest but refuses to do so.”

“We’ll help him then,” I hear the doctor say. My dad nods.

“No,” I plead with them. “No drugs, please. Let me rest, I’ll be fine on my own.”

But it’s useless. They decide for me what needs to be done and so they push medication into my system, making me sleepy at once.

“Just rest, son,” my dad says, his hand on my forehead.

I close my eyes and drift off, knowing they’re watching over me. I can’t bear to go to sleep again, but the darkness is too strong. I fall asleep at once.

Before long, I don’t think about anything anymore.


	9. Body and spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for following!   
> If you like the story, please leave a note - much appreciated ;)

**Chapter Nine: Body and spirit**

They think I’m asleep.

That’s what I want them to think. In truth, I’m far gone in thought, awake and alert but with eyes closed, yet at the same time also far gone. I’m still at the hospital, still being treated, finally moved into a private room.

I hate being here, but haven’t protested when they moved me and refused to let me go home.

“Just sleep,” is all they said when I opened my eyes during the move to my room, hardly able to open my eyes. I felt drugged, too sedated, too weary to do much.

They’ve been watching me.

I hear soft sounds and Melissa’s voice is heard, beside Lydia’s. They speak about me, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. Then they leave, thinking I’m okay. I open my eyes to find the room empty. I sit up slowly, in this private room, eager to use the time alone to get out of here.

An IV is still pushed inside my arm and I pull it out with a swift, painful haul. Blood drips on the floor, but I don’t care. I just want to get out of here, see Scott. I have to find him, tell him how sorry I am, give him hope to stay alive.

Impatiently I push my other hand over the wound and press hard, until the bleeding sort of stops.

I slip out of bed barefoot and almost collapse with buckling knees. I remove the hospital gown after finding clean clothes in the closet. Hastily I get dressed, seeing how the wound where the IV was stuck, reopened again and leaves a trail on my sleeve, blood seeping through the fabric.

Quietly I wait at the door, opening it a little bit so I can hear their voices and sounds they make. I’m able to listen in, realizing that my friends and dad aren’t here. They probably went to the cafeteria or something, leaving me alone for a while, thinking I’m asleep.

I walk calmly through the corridor, past the reception area where no one who knows me waits to stop me. I can get out just like that, and I do. Eagerly I leave the hospital, walk out of the front door, over the steps, towards the parking lot.

My jeep isn’t there of course, I have no ride.

So I walk.

Deaton’s clinic isn’t that far from the hospital and I just sense he’s still there. As I walk down the streets, my head spins, sending waves of dizziness through me. My chest still feels as if someone has stepped on it. I feel lousy as hell. But I won’t let anyone stop me.

Finally, after a long while, I take the clinic’s back door, knowing the front is most likely closed at this time of night. Deaton always leaves his backdoor open, knowing no supernatural creature can cross it because he has it protected with mountain ash. He’s fairly certain no human knows the truth about him, except for a few of course.

Carefully I enter the building, trying every door until I reach the back area where he usually treats the supernatural. Nobody knows of his area, except for us.

I open the four doors to the rooms of the back area, until I find Scott’s. Quietly I walk inside and find him lying on a mattress on top of the table, still as pale as he was before. He hasn’t moved since I came in. He’s far gone, so far I’m not sure if he can be brought back.

I don’t hear a single sound in the building. I move forward and touch his wrist, scared when I feel how cold it is. His upper body isn’t dressed, except for the thick white bandages that protect the wound the creature inflicted upon him. His face is so pale I just know he’s lost a lot of blood.

He’s in really bad shape.

I touch his wrist with both hands, mimicking what he usually does when I’m in pain. I can’t even begin to explain, but the emotional tethers between us are being ripped apart. He’s slipping away and I don’t know why. Nobody knows.

I close myo eyes. My head spins, but I’m strong enough to stay on my feet. I feel something, something that radiates from him to me, from me to him. I can’t explain this. I can’t begin to tell anyone about it. I’m not a supernatural creature, but I feel like Scott’s protector at this very moment.

Somehow, we’re linked to one another. Somehow, we’re connected. I’m his protector. A human protector, someone that can’t heal or save. I’m just Stiles. That’s it.

Yet I feel that’s what he needs right now.

Something inside me tells me that his life depends on the creature that attacked us. That thing did something to us, and is now keeping him from healing. I vow then and there to find what creature did this, and be done with it. That is my life’s quest for now. To hell with everything else. 

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

The door flungs open and I see Deaton, as soon as I open my eyes. Our gaze interlocks. He stares at me, his voice so tensed I know I’ve done something he doesn’t like. He’s upset I might have made it worse.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, unable to let go of Scott.

“Stiles.” He moves forward, and I’m aware of the fact that I can’t let go of Scott. My hands feel glued to his body. I am connected to him, so much I can’t let go.

Deaton isn’t looking at Scott. He’s staring at me. Behind him, the door opens for a second time, showing Derek, Lydia, Melissa and my dad in. The four of them stare at me as if I’m an alien.

“You have to let go now, Stiles,” Deaton says, moving forward with his hands up.

“I can’t.” My voice breaks as I stare at them.

“Stiles, listen to me,” my dad speaks softly. “You’re going to be fine, but you have to let go of Scott right now, or you’ll be off a lot worse. Your heart can’t take the strain. Please do as Deaton says. You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m not doing anything,” I whisper.

Lydia comes towards me, her eyes so large I know I’m in trouble. I think she’s going to give me hell, but in reality she’s horrified I’m not able to let go.

“Stiles?” she speaks. “You have to let go of him, okay? Can you do that?”

I shake my head, tears rolling down my face.

“Just take it easy,” she whispers. “You can do it. You just need to let go. Open your hands, flex your fingers. You can do it.”

I stare at her, fixed upon her face. I feel her hand on my right wrist. Then my dad moves towards me from the other side, touching me too, gently touching my left wrist. Derek moves towards me too, his hand above Lydia’s. Deaton does the same, taking my  father’s side.

The four of them try to pry my hands open, forcing me away long enough to break the connection.

And then it’s gone. The link between us is severed. My hands open by themselves and I stare at my fingers, then at Scott, who moves and stirs while his mom approaches the bed.

I turn to my dad as that same familiar, sharp pain shoots through my chest. I clutch my chest without saying a single word.

The sound of an ambulance is heard. I know they’re coming from me. I collapse into Derek’s arms, who lowers me to the ground. Melissa hurries towards us, my dad is pretty upset and runs outside, getting the medics in as fast as he can.

“Goddamnit Stiles,” Derek almost shouts. I’m surprised he’s so upset.

On the table, I hear a groaning sound escaping Scott’s mouth. It worked.

“Tell them to hurry up,” I hear Melissa shout.

I’m gone.


	10. The boy who runs with wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your lovely comments!

**Chapter 10: The boy who runs with wolves**

The door opens and closes and wakes me after a long and quiet period.

I’m confused at first as to where I am, until I find my dad hovering over me, raising my eyelids when he sees me stir. I’ve been wandering in the shadows, reliving the weirdest dreams. And now I’m slowly returning to the present.

I feel better, stronger, safer. They’ve helped me get better. Perhaps not completely yet, but well enough at least to think straight again.

Now it is time to find the truth. 

“You’re going to be fine, son,” my dad says with hoarse, tired voice, sending a text message to Melissa with his phone in one hand and the other one on my wrist.

“How long?” I croak.

“You collapsed at Deaton’s yesterday evening. You’ve been back at the ICU since then.”

His voice changes into a more nervous, frantic sounding wreck. I did this to him, I made him so scared, thinking he’d be left without a son.

“Why the hell did you do that, Stiles? Why did you risk your own health like that? You knew we already have to revive you once. But you don’t care about that, do you? You don’t care about yourself.”

“I do care,” I whisper, “but I care more about Scott.”

He looks as if he’s going to give me hell, but in the end he doesn’t say another word about it, and sits down on the side of my bed, sighing deeply because he knows he’ll never be able to change me. If he did, I wouldn’t be me.

Melissa, Malia, Lydia and Derek enter the room together. I’m really surprised to find the older wolf with my friends, wondering why he would care so much. But he does, just like he does for Scott. I can see it in his eyes.

I’m very disappointed Scott isn’t here, I had hoped he’d be recovered by now, but he hasn’t.

“He’s still out, isn’t he?” I ask as Melissa checks me out, smiling when she hears a regular heartbeat.

“Yeah, he is,” she says, “but somehow you have done something to him that improved his condition, Stiles, even though we’re still at a loss as to what that is. You’re not supernatural, you don’t have any powers that we know of, yet you were able to help him.”

“Deaton called it life’s power,” I say, looking at Derek. “Whatever the hell that means.”

The older wolf nods. “I’ve heard this before, but thought it was a legend, a fairytale from old ages we’ve all forgotten about. I’ve never seen any human do this, yet you did. That kind of shocked me, Stiles and I’ve been trying to research it since yesterday, when you proved you could do it.”

“Do what?” I ask.

“This life’s power is basically your will to live that you poured into him, Stiles. You somehow transferred some of your own willpower, your life’s force so to speak, into his body, but it exhausted and strained you and made you weak and vulnerable. That’s why your heart took quite a blow and you had difficulty recuperating,” he explains.

“How did I do that?” I ask surprised, staring at my friends and dad.

“We don’t know.”

“That thing did something to me, didn’t it?” Troubled I raise up. “I’m something now too, aren’t I? Something supernatural.”

The thought alone frightened me. I didn’t want to be a wolf or anything else. I didn’t desire it.

“No, you’re not. Deaton already confirmed that,” Melissa hastily says. “You’re still yourself, Stiles. But what you did, was extraordinary nonetheless.” She smiles wearily. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to get him out of his coma yet.”

“I’m his human protector,” I blurt out.

“What?” Derek looks up shocked. “Where did you get that phrase?”

“I don’t know. It sprung into mind earlier. It feels as if he’s alive because I’m protecting him somehow. The words popped into my head,” I shrug, noticing Derek’s shock.

“Because of your power. Your battery of life has drained some of its strength into him,” Lydia speaks for the first time.

“How did I do that then?” I ask.

“That, we don’t know,” Derek confessed, “but you’re not supposed to do tha anyhow. Deaton did research on the matter too and confirmed that a regular human being can’t just sacrifice his battery for someone else without consequences. Apart from that, you’re not even supposed to have the capability to do so. He’s trying to figure out what triggered this.”

“Why did you go back to Deaton’s?” my dad asks. “How did you know where he was?”

“It seemed logical and I was drawn to Scott,” I say. “He’s my best friend, why would I hesitate?”

“Scott wouldn’t want this, Stiles,” Melissa speaks quietly and troubled. “You have to stop doing that. Scott will have to make it on his own from now on.”

“Then why is he still out?” I ask quietly, moving my legs as I shove aside the blankets.

“What are you doing?” Melissa retorts troubled.

“I’m getting out of here,” I say surprised. “What else?”

“You can’t do that, Stiles. You’re not okay!” his mother nearly shouts.

 “Then what am I supposed to do, Melissa?” I ask bitterly. “Wait for nothing? For his death? To do what? Spend the rest of my life feeling guilty?”

“Why are you so hard for yourself?” my dad asks. “It’s not your fault Scott was injured.”

“If not mine, then whose?” I exclaim. “He saved me, dad. He was with me, throwing himself over me because I’m vulnerable. I’m just a kid who thinks he can run with wolves without consequences. I thought I could act normal for once. I nearly begged him to come to the woods with me. And I lied to myself, okay? I’m no one, I’m not a savior and I’m not supposed to run in the first place. So why won’t I risk my life for him? Scott is a true alpha who can save so many lives, whereas I can’t. He has to come back to us.”

“Stiles.” Melissa lays her hands on my arm. “You’re so much more than you think you are, Stiles. You’re the one that keeps them all together, the glue that Scott needs to keep his pack whole. You’re the one he always looked up, even when you were just a silly kid who cracked jokes. You’re not the kid you used to be. You’ve grown up to become a wise young man, one that carries the burdens of a life ahead and the wisdom of people who have lived a lifetime.”

I stare at her shocked, as the others listen in.

“Listen to me, Stiles,” she pushes me. “I know how bad you’ve been feeling since you were possessed. I know about the nightmares and the selfblame and the way you’ve been hating yourself. I know you’re afraid of the darkness inside of you, that has impacted your heart. Your past has always haunted you, yet it formed you to who you are today. So why do you blame yourself?”

“Because I am to blame,” I say, sliding out of bed despite her eagerness to hold me back.

My dad grasps my arm as I wave past him, barely able to contain my anger. I turn around to find his fierce eyes staring back at me in frustration as I stand trembling besides the bed.

“I’m sorry,” I say to Melissa. “I know you put your faith in me, but I’m not who you think I am. I’m no good to anyone. He is.”

“Stiles,” Lydia says to me quietly. “Scott is not yours to save.”

“Isn’t he?” I ask her. “If I can’t even do that, what good am I to this world?”

My dad grabs me tight, holding me against him as I tremble so hard I feel weak. I burst into tears, clinging against him.

“You are everything,” he whispers.

Then why does it feel I’m worth nothing?


	11. Evil lurks

**Chapter 11: Evil lurks**

They won’t leave me alone anymore. Every time I wake up, there’s someone sitting in my room, watching me or sleeping with an eye still on me somehow. I stir and they look up, I move and they’re by my bedside.

I’m allowed out of bed at long last to go to the toilet and freshen up, with a nurse by my side helping me. It’s damned awkward and I just want all of them to leave.

I think it must have been two nights later when I find Derek sitting in the dark by my bed. Over the past hours I have been brooding about a plan to escape the hospital again, figuring that, now I’m doing better and haven’t attempted to get out anymore, they’d loosen their guards and let me sleep alone.

I was mistaken.

The second I try to slip out of bed, Derek stands by me. He’s so quiet he nearly gaves me another heartattack. Don’t think that was the idea, really.

“What the hell?” I mutter, taken off guard by his presence. “Why the hell don’t you just go home and leave me alone?”

“I know what you’re going to do, Stiles,” he says quietly. “And I won’t let you.”

I look at him, sniffing something in the air that I haven’t smelt before. There’s something off about him. He doesn’t smell like he usually does. He reeks of the woods.

“You’ve been trying to find it,” I almost accuse him.

“Yes.”

“Why? You won’t find it, it’s mine to track down.”

“I know.”

“What?” I look up shocked.

“It’s after you, because you were the first thing it saw in ages. It’s something new for us, but old to the world. It was dorment.”

“You know what it is,” I say sharply.

“I have an idea.”

“Then tell me, goddamnit!” I almost scream.

“It’s not yours to fight, Stiles. You won’t make it. And you don’t want to do it either.  You don’t want to carry the burden of death, trust me. It’ll change you forever.”

“I’m already changed, since it attacked us,” I blurt out. “Do you really think that sooner or later, one of us won’t get their hands dirty, Derek?”

“You don’t have to, you’re human,” he speaks quietly.

“What do you care,” I snarl poisoness. “I’m just Scott’s stupid, sarcastic friend. You’ve made that pretty clear over the past years, remember? You always saw me standing in the way.”

“You never were his stupid friend,” he corrects me. “You’re sarcastic, yes. But you’re also smart, brilliant even, and you stand up for those that need you.”

“Whoever needs me?” I blurt out in tears.

“We all do.”

I almost think I’m going to pass out of pure shock. Is this the cynical wolf that hates me so much?

“Stiles.” He leans forward so I can take a better look at his face. “You have gained every ounce of trust that I’ve placed on you. You saved Jackson’s life, you have saved Scott’s. You’ve saved mine on several occasions. Don’t think I don’t know that. You may not be a warrior or a fighter, but you are valuable to the pack.”

I stare at him in shock. “Are you going to kiss me now?”

He laughs out loud. “Not a chance. But it’s good to see your sarcasm returning. Darkness can be overwhelming, can’t it? You don’t need to keep it in your heart, Stiles. The nogitsune is gone. You don’t have to carry that burden anymore, just like the burden of Scott’s condition is not yours.”

“Derek, you’re a smart guy,” I say quietly. “You’ve saved me too, more than once. I know that you’ve tried to protect me when that thing took over. You carry your own darkness, but you can’t take away the heartache in me, okay?”

He looks at me sharply. “You’re afraid this thing will attack us too because we want to try and protect you.”

I nod wearily.

“People die all the time, Stiles, but nobody will die because of that thing. That, I can guarantee you. But I won’t allow you go out there by yourself and find the evil that roams the preserve. I have to do that, it’s my turf. Not yours.” Derek eyes me. “I swear it won’t harm anyone again.”

 I look at him. Oh god, how I want to trust him and say he can go out there and find it. But I know I have to do it myself. And he knows the same.

Derek sighs deeply, knowing he’s talking to a brick wall.

“For now, you have to rest, Stiles. You’re still too hurt and you desperately need some sleep. If you don’t do that, you’ll never get out of this place. I’ll come back later for you, I promise. If you do as I say.” 

“You promise?” I ask with a small voice.

“I swear.”

“I still have to pee though.”

He laughs out loud, helping me out of the bed and into the bathroom. “Good thing I don’t have to unzip any flies,” he retorts, closing the door. He’s waiting outside, I’m sure, while I do my business and wash my hands.

The fatigue strikes when I’m leaning hard into the china beneath my fingertips, staring at myself with such tired eyes I know I’m kidding myself.

I make a mental way through the pain while my mind ignores the fact my legs are too weary to keep up for a long time. I know that I can make it outside. All I have to do is urge my legs to start moving decently. I looked at my bare feet, placed on the cold ground.  _Move_. 

They won’t.

Quietly and tiredly I slide to the ground, making noise. That gesture alone sends me gasping for breath. I wait for a few seconds, taking deep breaths, while the door bursts open and Derek comes in.

Tears welt in my eyes. I am horrified that my body won’t even listen to my mind in a time like this. Quietly Derek helps me up and back into the bed. He watches me as I pants, clutching my chest. He touches my wrist, feeling the pain radiating from me.

“Do you want me to call a doctor?” he asks troubles.

I shake my head. He’s absolutely right. Who am I kidding? I’m no good to anyone. Tears escape my eyes. Without a word, he holds me against him, allowing me to catch a breath.

After a while, he lets go.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

“You’re welcome,” he retorts. Then he smiles quietly. “You are strong, Stiles. You just need to allow yourself the time to heal.”

“Will it get better?”

“I promise you it will.”

He sinks down in the chair again, watching me as I turn to my side and sink away in a deep sleep. I feel better, knowing he’s there.

“I still won’t kiss you though,” I hear him mutter.

I snort.  



	12. Scott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for the comments, kudos and likes!

**Chapter Twelve: Scott**

Okay, I’m officially going stir crazy. One week in this damned bed and I’m ready to kill anyone coming near me. I just want to get out of here. Period.

They won’t tell me what’s going on with Scott either. They just say that he’s fine. That’s it, nothing more, nothing less. So I decide that it’s time to find out for myself.

The guardians have let go, that’s one thing. They got fed up with watching over me, believing the hospital staff would do that for them now. They had to get to school. They reported Scott and I sick, making Coach Finstock snigger.

“Of course, what are they up to now?” I could almost hear them say.

Well, in this case, we’re actually both really sick, Coach.

I sneak out of bed when the nursing staff came to check up on me, grabbed my clothes and got dressed. I can stand on both feet again. I know that I’m doing okay. So I am ready to go and see Scott.

I’m almost outside the room, sneaking down the hallways, when he catches me. Derek just stands there with his arms folded over each other, looking at me so intently I swear his eyes pierce right through me.

“So,” he says. “I take it you’re ready to go?”

I just nod.

“Let’s go then.” He doesn’t give me hell. He doesn’t stop me. And I realize, that this was all planned. They knew I would try to escape again and allow me to do so, because I’m healthy enough and they know I’ll do whatever I feel like anyhow.

They know me pretty well.

“So, I take it you’re my guardian now?” I ask.

“Yep.”

“Why you?”

“I’m the only one who can keep you alive.”

“I’m not stupid, Derek. I won’t kill myself.”

He grabs my wrist so tight I hiss. His furious eyes shock me. “You still don’t get it, do you Stiles?” he asks sharply. “The moment you walk out of this hospital you will endanger your life. Your head isn’t fine, your heart took a serious blow and anything that happens to you now, might send you into eternal oblivion. Have you ever considered that?”

“I just want to save Scott,” I say weakly.

“From what, Stiles? Scott can’t be saved by you, because he’s too sick to be helped at this time. Deaton and his mom are doing all they can, but whatever touched him, can’t just be cured. He needs time to heal, and he’s slowly getting there. Thanks to you, I have to add. But right now, there’s nothing more you can do to help him. He has to take the journey on his own now.”

“Can I see him?” I ask with small voice.

“Yes, I was planning on taking you there.”

“How bad is it?”

“He’s like sleeping beauty,” Derek lightly smiles. “As if he’s cursed. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Then what can get him awake?”

“We can only guess, but it will not be your life’s power anymore. You already gave too much,” he retorts, more sharply than he probably intents to say.

I stretch my back. “Then it’ll never be over, will it?”

He sighs deeply as I take a seat in his Camaro, gingerly shoving the seatbelt into place. I’m so tired, but won’t show him. Derek doesn’t need to know that I crave for a bed already.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully as he starts the car. “I hope it will be at one point.”

We drive in silence to Deaton’s place, where the vet waits for us, knowing all too well we would come. He smiles and pats my back.

“You’re still as pale as hell, but at least you’re up again. I will be keeping a very close eye on you, Stiles, so don’t even attempt to heal Scott again, because I won’t let you.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I promise. “How is he doing?”

He shows us to the room where Scott is lying in a bed, an IV pushing fluids into his system. He hasn’t eaten for a week, Deaton explains to me, so they’re making sure he doesn’t dehydrate.

“Melissa has been helping out with whatever nutritions he need, but we can’t bring him to the hospital, as you know. I have been working with herbs and additional nutrition to keep him comfortable.”

I’m truly shocked at what I see. I had expected a lot: Scott lying deadly ill in a bed, Scott having bad dreams, Scott being restless. Scott, pale and hurt and totally out of it. But it’s not what I find.

He’s asleep, I can’t explain it any other way. He is Sleeping Beauty, just like Derek said. He’s sleeping. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.

“He just won’t wake up,” Deaton smiles wearily as he recognizes the shock on my face. “Trust me, Stiles, you did save his life, probably twice, because he wouldn’t be in the state he’s in right now without your help. But his conscious has not been playing catchup with his body yet. All we can do, is wait for him to open his eyes again.”

“So it’s that thing that caused this?” I ask, my anger returning.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Do you know what this is by now?”

“Yes, we do,” Derek intervenes. “It doesn’t have a name, or at least not one that we know of, but it’s out there and it’s evil, like you said, Stiles.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s an entity that has been dwelling around these parts for some time,” Deaton explains. “In fact, thousands of years, long before there was talk of Beacon Hills. It has lived in the woods and has hidden itself as civilization began. It’s a combination of a monster and a spirit, and it has never hurt anyone, until last week. And once, a hundred years ago.”

“How can you be certain of that?” I ask sharply, staring at Scott whom I don’t dare to touch again, knowing they won’t allow me to.

“There are no records of it,” Deaton speaks calmly. “Stiles, you have to understand there are thousands of supernatural creatures out there that we know of, and probably a thousand more that we don’t even know. In this case, I know what it is because of your description and an account I found in my logs dating a hundred years back, of a man experiencing the exact same as you. His tale is so detailed, I knew at once it was the same creature.”

“What happened to this man?” I ask troubled.

“He died,” Derek says. “He fell asleep and never woke up.”

I hold my breath. “So Scott is going to die too?”

“We are doing all we can to avoid that, Stiles,” Deaton says. “But if that thing really was out there to attack you, for one reason or another, you can’t head out there to find it yourself. We’re doing our best to track it down.”

“You won’t be able to say,” I say. “If this thing has been lurking out there forever, it will not be lured out now either.”

“We don’t know that,” Derek says sharply. “Stiles, it’s not your responsibility.”

“It is if it will save Scott.”

“We’ll find another way.”

I smile at Derek as I watch Scott, who lies so quiet, I think he’s already slipping away. Then I turn to Deaton.

“I know the two of you mean well, but I am going to go out there and I will do it alone,” I say quietly. “No matter what you say, it’s my fight.”

“Stiles, you’re crazy -!” Derek begins, but then, to our great surprise, Deaton stops him and smiles at me.

“You go then,” he speaks. “You go out there and do what you have to do to save Scott.”

Shocked, I stare at him.

“You’re going to let him go out there?” Derek cries out.

“Yes, and he’ll do it on his own,” Deaton retorts. “Stiles, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

I gaze at the vet, expecting him to stop me, but he doesn’t. So I turn around after a brief nod to the two of them, and close the door behind me. The next moment, I’m standing outside in the sun, taking deep breaths as I leave the premises and head out on foot towards the preserve.

Nobody is following me.


	13. The woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for the kind comments!  
> In meantime I finished the story, so will keep posting rapidly.

**Chapter 13: The Woods**

I walk out on foot into the woods, with nothing with me except for a stick, avoiding werewolves or anyone else who might be trying to help me. I feel more agitated than ever, realizing that I haven't taken my medication for a week now. Yet, my brain is focused on one thing only: To find this thing.

This time, I will do everything alone. I won't be helped by my friends by choice. I know that this thing will not come out if I'm not alone. Don't ask me why I know this, because I have no clue. It's just a hunch.

I leave Beacon Hills without looking back, following the route through the woods that we have taken before. I know where Scott and I were found and that's the spot where I will start looking for it. That is the only clue I have.

I find the location back easily and wait to listen to sounds of the others. Only when I'm alone and hear nothing, I'm reassured I'm not followed. Relieved, I know that Derek and Deaton meant what they said, albeit reluctantly.

As I kneel down and touch the ground, I find myself struck hard with dizziness. My stomach feels strange, as if someone has kicked me hard. The pressure inside of me clenches against my skin. The area around my heart aches like hell.

Gingerly, I rest one hand on the ground, waiting for the pain to pass before I try to concentrate on my reason to be here. There are large tracks on the ground, of the beast that has hurt us. I had seen them before, but didn't focus on them properly. I'm not exactly a good tracker, basically I suck at it.

But this time, I can't avoid it and I can't help but wonder why the others haven't seen this. After all, isn't this what they do? What the hell is wrong with all of us these days?

I crawl on hands and knees, wondering what Scott would do in my situation, as I follow the very obvious tracks through the bushes that leads to another trail, and see the twitched branches and fallen leafs. The woods are beautiful this time of year, I suddenly think. Why don't we ever see this? Why do we avoid the beauty of nature?

I stand up and proceed on the other track, and the footsteps become lighter and then heavier again. They leave the path, and then follow through the darker side of the forest. They guide me away from the track. I know this area of the forest quite well and know that there will be a rocky quarry soon, followed by another open patch, and then another path that splits up into two large areas and paths that have been man-made over the past hundred years or so. One track leads to a tiny waterfall that has been hidden for ages, where I have come right after my mom died. The other one goes deeper into the woods. I pray it won't lead to the waterfall.

The tracks go to the woods, to my great relief. This creature lives in the forest, between the trees. It is larger than anything I have ever seen, bigger than a kanima, a wolf, or whatever haunts us.

I push my fear away and proceed as the sun shines high in the skies and brightens up the world. Its beams are hot and without mercy. I feel very tired and weary suddenly, knowing I'm not supposed to be in the sun like this.

Right now, all that keeps me going, are the trees that give me shade and stop the sun from hurting me. But it still feels terrible.

That song of Radiohead shoots through my mind. _What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here._

My footsteps are not as swift as they should be. I look around for a bigger stick or tree branch to defend myself, finding nothing very useful.

I feel so tired. What is going on with me?

I want to go back, but my legs are frozen and my feet no longer listen to me.

If only Scott were here. He would smile and say, "What trouble have you gotten yourself into now, Stiles? Why are you out here, doing this? You should stay at the hospital, with your dad. Why are you being so foolish?"

I see Scott as I walk slower and deeper into the forest, no longer guarded by trees. He stands before me, and smiles that smile he does when he is with me.

My legs give in. I'm so goddamn tired, so weary. My heart clenches, I know I'm in trouble. I can't – can't –

I fall and keep on falling. It feels like an eternity.


	14. The Creature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again for your lovely comments and reactions!

**Chapter 14: The Creature**

"Stiles? Stiles! Come on, you have to get up before it's too late, dude. _Stiles!"_

I feel strong hands shake me and a familiar voice sounds clearly in my ears, pounding so loudly I can't ignore it.

"What?" I ask wearily. I open my eyes and protect them immediately against the sharp sunlight that radiates on my face.

"Get up, man."

The man shaking me, is someone I know better than anyone.

"Scott?" I ask confused, feeling his hands on me. "That can't be."

He doesn't smile reassuringly. He just talks to me, keeps on pulling my sleeve.

"Get up, Stiles."

"I am too tired, Scott," I mutter, closing my eyes again. "I just want to sleep."

"I know you're tired buddy, but you'll die if you continue to rest. Move up, now. Or you're going to be in big trouble. I can't help you, you're on your own."

I look at him again, forcing myself to listen at last.

"How did you get here?" I stumble. "You're sick, in a coma. I'm dreaming, right? You're not even real."

"That's right," he says without hesitation.

"Then I'm in a coma too? This is not real, is it?"

"You're on the edge of it, yes, but you can't go any further. Wake up, Stiles. Move before it's too late. You're too strong for this, you can't slip away."

"Tired, Scott." I close my eyes, allowing my head to sink back, but he pulls my sleeve so hard, it aches.

"Get up."

"What is the use of life when it is not worth living?" I hear myself say suddenly, lying there useless. "I can't go on without you. It's my fault you were there in the first place."

"I chose to be there," he snaps. "Stop blaming yourself. Get up!"

He kicks me so bad I shake and stir. And I'm back. And he's still there.

I find myself lying on the ground in the woods, talking to a person that isn't even there and laugh at the craziness of it. I'm delirious, for sure. Because I see Scott still hovering over me, while he is miles away. So this is what it's like to hallucinate.

"Get up, Stiles!"

I do as he says. I find myself sitting up while he watches me from a distance. And I sink back down immediately, too weak to care.I can't move, and my eyes close by themselves and I am out of this world into the next.

I dream of Scott: of blood red skies and his blood coloring them. He stands before me, pale as a sheet and deadly ill. And I just stare at him.

"Why don't you move?" he shouts. "You're his willing prey. Get up!"

I blink my eyelids, struggling with the disorientation that creeps up from within me. I'm still in the forest, lying on the same place I lay before. Yet something has changed, I can feel dread hovering over me.

I roll on my side and heave and wait for the pain to leave my body. Then I grasp the stick and crawl up. I look behind me and see that the shadows have moved. Something's coming out of it. Something so large that it can never be destroyed. I feel fear settling over me. It is cold and almost touchable. I get up dizzily, my hands clutching the stick.

I'm ready.

The thing coming out of the woods is huge, smelly and looks like a combination of a werewolf and a troll. It's large, this creature, and probably so old it can never be beaten. Its head is huge, its fangs large, its claws enormous. It looks like Peter's alpha version but worse, bigger and more angrily.

I must be dreaming, this can't be real. I'm dreaming. Yes, that's right.

Then why do I hear the ground shake when it moves towards me? I can see it coming for me, and then I know how Scott became hurt. It has a sharp tongue, like a venomous snake that sheds its poison onto its victims. Like the kanima, but worse. This poison sends you straight into a coma.

Deaton said it has no name and I'm not surprised. This thing consists of many creatures and none, coming straight out of hell.

I am afraid. Horrified. I feel now that my mind and body are not ready to fight this. I feel like a boy facing its first enemy. I want to run as fast as my legs can still carry me. Instead, I find myself walking forward, towards it. I can't stop myself.

We fight.

I can't even remember how it happened afterwards, but I know that we fight. Its tongue tries to touch my skin several times, leaving burning holes in the trees between which we stand instead. Its sharp claws reach out for me and I avoid it, running faster than it is, but with a useless weapon that is worth absolutely nothing.

I grasp the stick with both hands and swirl it. It's David against Goliath. The creature avoids it, and hits me, sending me against the trees, my back throwing against it sharply.

Yep, this is not a dream.

I taste my own blood, feel it trickle down my face. I get up, fight again, hit it, avoid its poison, hit it again, smash it with my stick – which does absolutely nothing -, fall, get up again, wood on skin that hardly seems affected.

I'm thrown against the ground at least four times. I feel my head collide with it. I see nothing anymore, and then the sun that seems out of place. It grasps the stick and throws it away.

I know that I'm not able to fight this thing in a regular way. I'm too weak.

"No," I say, holding up my hands to protect my head as I crawl backwards. I reach for another stick, stumbling backwards when I can't reach anything. I trip over a branch and fall into the trees, wood impacting on the back of my head. It is not even a bad hit. I see stars, I see nothing.

I'm going straight into oblivion and I pass out, knowing I did this to myself.

Why did I do this to myself?


	15. The water

**Chapter Fifteen: The water**

I hear something dripping beside me, like the constant tickling of water onto the ground. I know that sound, I've heard it before. Yet the woods aren't damp with water anymore, as the sun had broken through early this morning.

I look up and find myself looking at the large shadow above me. It is the creature. I'm not dead yet, I think in wonder. I want to move my body and reach for a branch to protect myself with, but can't. I'm on the move. I'm being dragged over the ground by it. My body lies useless in its grip. My back feels broken, my head hurts like hell.

I fall down and keep on falling into darkness until I hit the ground. The creature has left me alone. I can no longer hear its heavy steps. Water drips on me. No, not water. A slick substance. I can hear the slithering sounds of rats crawling over the wet ground. I can see their beady eyes. They stare at me in the dark and scent the blood that comes from the side of my head. They approach me.

Silence follows noises, and follows silence. I've lost all sense of time. I just lie there. And I dream of Lydia. I open my eyes in shock as the rat reaches my neck. Its sharp teeth grasp my skin.

"No!" I hear the scream and don't recall if it comes from me. I can't recall having so much force within me to shout like that. I'm struggling to stay alive.

My body is eager to live and too strong to be eaten by the lowest of animals. The rat jumps off me and I roll away from it and its sniffling companions.

I crawl up and my hands touch the slick surface. It's a nest. A hiding place for the creature that took me. It wants me for dinner, I come to realize. It is evil, as I have said, but it is doesn't care who it eats. Perhaps that is what it wanted all the time: a human to devour.

But why wouldn't it kill us then when we were lying there unprotected? Why could we be saved the first time? Why didn't it just take Scott? Why didn't it already eat me?

I have no idea.

I stand up in the dark and hope that the rats don't nibble on my fingertips. I find slick rocks next to me. I don't want to explore this nest and whatever else lies in it. Someone else has to destroy it, because I'm too weak to do it.

I find light above me, and the cave where I am at is dark and deep. I crawl on the rocks and reach up, grasping the stones as I struggle with my ability to stay awake. Going deeper inside the cave would be foolish and all I have is this way out. I hope and pray that the creature doesn't return too quickly, probably thinking I'm half dead.

With what strength I have in me, I crawl out of the cave. Before my eyes, I see the creature sitting with its back towards me. It is large and strong and in its hands it has two birds it has snatched out of the trees as if they were flies. Its tongue has stung them and the creatures stare into nothingness. I wasn't stung. Perhaps it thought I was dead already.

I know now I can't kill it. Or can I? I have nothing, and the wood doesn't help.

I know I have to kill it with different means. And I remember the pocketknife I have with me at all times. Is that what could do it? This little knife I have with me?

No, I can't kill. I shouldn't. This is a living being, it deserves to live. But then, don't I do too?

Suddenly it turns towards me, seeing me staggering before it. And my hands reach for my knife. I lift it, plunging it into its neck. I just want to stop it for now, so I can run. It screams a high-pitched scream and staggers, and turns as its paws cling for the tiny dagger piercing its skin. And then it falls forward, almost dropping on top of me. Just like that.

I trip and fall aside and lay down heaving. Its eyes stare into mine. It's still alive, and I'm glad it is. Venom drips out of its mouth, onto the ground, and I know that's what I need. Carefully I reach into my pocket for my handkerchief and let poison drip onto it. Carefully I close the cloth over its content. Then I pull out my pocketknife out of its throat and kneel before it.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "But you hurt us."

Its tongue hisses. It tries to speak as it lays on its side.

And I'm shocked as I hear what it says.

"Nogitsune."

Dazed I look into its eyes.

"Dark."

I know now why it attacked me. It sensed the remains of darkness inside of me. It wanted to destroy me. Fearfully I get up.

"You're mistaken," I whisper. "I'm not evil anymore."

It closes its eyes as I take off staggering as I follow the track of my body being pulled over the ground. The track leads me out of its nest, away from the creature I have left behind alive. I won't kill it, because it doesn't deserve to be killed. I have what I need in my pocket.

I make it halfway back towards the preserve, there where we know our way. I fall on my knees, almost near the space where the creature fought me before I sink on my knees the first time, vomiting and heaving until I think I'm going to pass out.

But I don't.

Then I slowly crawl up, and start making my way back to Beacon Hills.

I don't know how long I've been walking, but then I see him. Derek hurries towards me, grabbing me before I sink to the ground. He was waiting for me, on the outskirts of the preserve, like he promised, without interfering.

"My pocket," I say to him, grabbing his wrist. "Careful."

Derek reaches into my pocket and finds the handkerchief with the creature's poison on it, staring at it in amazement.

"You did it," he says stunned. "You actually pulled it off."

"Scott needs it," I whisper, fighting against sleep.

"I know," Derek says. "You've passed the test, Stiles. Let's get you home."

He lifts me up, hanging me with one damaged arm over his shoulder, juggling me careful to avoid the many injuries I sport.

I look at him in wonder and want to ask what he means with 'test', but the darkness is too inviting and I'm too tired to ask for the details. So I allow my head to sink forward and my body to slide away, despite his attempts to keep me awake.


	16. The test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end of this story! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reviewing and reading, very much appreciated. also, thank you for the private messages and many comments I received on The Human Protector.
> 
> My next one (part 3 of the Skies series) will come up in real soon.  
> Thanks again!

 

**Chapter 16: The test**

"Thirsty?"

I look in wonder at Scott standing at my bedside. Oh god, I'm in the hospital again. Then I realize that he's himself again.

Shocked, I stare at him pouring a glass of water, while someone else, my dad, tilts the bed and Melissa comes in to check me out alongside a doctor.

"Look who's back," she smiles happily. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a bulldozer ran over me."

"Well, that sort of happened," she winks, only for me. "You were run over by a car, Stiles. They found you lying unconscious near the preserve."

She gazes lightly at the doctor, warning me with her eyes about the story they cocked up.

"I don't remember," I just say, sipping water that Scott offers me.

My head is wrapped up in bandages, but that's not the only thing that's covered. So are my hands, my legs and my abdomen.

"You are one lucky kid," the doctor says, "many bruises and slashes, but no internal injuries. You do have a serious concussion though, so that means bedrest for quite some time."

As soon as he's out of the room, I grab Scott's wrist.

"I'm dreaming, right?"

"Nope," he smiles. "I'm okay thanks to you. I was poisoned by the creature you attacked. I couldn't fight against it, my body couldn't push it out. Deaton used the poison you brought back to make an antivenom. That woke me up. I'm as good as new."

I can't stop staring at him.

"And while I was out, you caused quite a stir, Stiles," he reprimands me. "It's a good thing your skull is as stubborn as you are, because you wouldn't have made it otherwise. You were one lucky bastard."

"How long?"

"Three days."

"Did I sleep that long?" I nearly shout.

"Yep," my dad says, "too long for my liking, but you did it."

"What did I do?" I ask, remembering Derek's words.

"That is something Deaton will explain to you," My dad says, "but please promise me you'll never do it again."

The door opens soon after, letting Derek and Deaton in, who have been waiting patiently for my awakening, apparently.

Derek smiles nervously, a feeling of guilt shining over his features. I know he wanted to help me and wasn't allowed to do so, which practically killed him, I'm sure. Big bad wolf having to wait for the human weakling to stop the enemy. Hah.

Deaton waits until Derek leans against the windowsill, waiting for my questions.

"It was a test?" I ask him. "You spoke of a test."

"The test of darkness. We knew of this being living inside the woods, as you know. The creature that only comes out once every hundred years to challenge a human. And it chose you. I had to find out why, and the only way to do so, was to have you confront it. So I had to send you out alone in the woods, hoping that my senses were spot on and it wouldn't kill you."

"It tried to," I say hoarsely. "I barely survived."

"Only because you fought it. It wanted to protect you, Stiles, to scan you and to keep you from harm. But you defended yourself and therefore it defended itself too. When you were out, it took you to the nest to protect you against yourself. It thought it had to do that."

I look shocked. "Are you saying this thing is peaceful?"

"It is. Otherwise it would have killed many others before. But it came out because it scented you. Or at least, the darkness inside of you that still remained after your sacrifice and the nogitsune."

I lift myself up. "What are you saying? That you wanted to find out how dark I still am?"

Deaton smiles lightly, without giving an answer. That chills me the most.

"My son is innocent," my dad says. "How could you do this to him?"

"Your son has been struggling with himself ever since the darkness arrived," Deaton corrects him, and when he speaks I know he's right. "He has been doubting for many months now if he can ever be trusted again. He still feels guilty as hell and he still suffers from nightmares. He's not alright. But you see, the creature that came and looked after him, proved that he is alright. He will always have a slice of darkness in his heart, but it's so minor it is barely noticeable to anyone, but himself. The creature wanted to help him, instead of attacking him. Only, it accidentally wound him hurting them both."

"So you took a chance with my son's life?" my dad retorts sharply.

"Dad, it's alright," I say, understanding it all now. "I wanted to go, I chose to go. Deaton, I hurt it, but I left it alive."

"It will be fine then, Stiles," he says to me. "And you saved Scott. You proved to yourself that you were in control of your anger. Your actions were never rash. Even in your anger and despair, you allowed your natural instinct to step forward and take over. The creature knows that now. It will never touch you again. You are not Nogitsune anymore, and it's time you learn to accept that."

Scott smiles. "You're the best friend I could ever wish for, Stiles. And you have saved me a dozen times before. Please believe that from now on."

A mixture of emotions washes over me, as I know Deaton is right. I have been punishing myself for so long. It's time to let go.

I fall asleep with all of my friends by my side. When I wake again, most of the pains are gone. Scott and Derek have taken turns leeching it out of me, so I can heal faster. Which I am. I feel much better in a few days' time, surrounded by them.

Lydia and Malia are close by my side, and my dad never leaves the room again. They read and chat amongst themselves. When I'm awake, they read to me too. I love it when they do that. I love it all.

Slowly, as Scott and Derek talk to me and we discuss what happened out there in the woods, I come to accept the new me. The one with that little slice of darkness inside of him, but a slice not big enough to control him.

I can live with that.

The End


End file.
